


Beneath My Skin, Stars Collide

by blakesparkles



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Anxiety, Brighton - Freeform, Christmas, Confessions, Crystals, Donuts, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Feelings, Fluff, Friendship, Incenses, Insecurity, Jack is a tattoo artist, Jack needs a fucking door, M/M, Making Out, Mark really wants to touch Jack's tattoos, Pining, Pride Parade, Smut, Tea, Text Messages, Touch-Starved, art everywhere, eventually, friends - Freeform, meet my hippie style in this fic, or just him in general
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 13:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11669853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakesparkles/pseuds/blakesparkles
Summary: The Irishman frowns when a stronger American accent reaches his ears and this time, Jack looks up.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! Here i am again with another fic and this time, it's something light and fun. Hopefully something that will warm your heart. Enjoy! ♥

Jack knits his eyebrows and the constant buzzing of the tattoo machine sings in his ears. The green-haired man wipes away the traces of blood and ink from his client’s arm and focuses on finishing the last touches. He starts explaining to the man in the chair how to take care of the sensitive skin, telling him to apply a specific ointment, stay away from hot water and sunlight. Jack lets out a chuckle when the man grimaces, feeling sympathy for his pain. When he turns off the machine, the background music from their studio is more audible and Jack snorts at Felix’s taste.

 

“Kpop? Really?” he exclaims after patching up his client’s tattoo and seeing him out.

 

The silver-haired man screams with laughter and he can see Robin rolling his eyes from the reception counter. The Irishman takes off his black gloves and tells him to change it for something more appropriate for the shop. Robin raises his hand to say that he demands equal rights regarding the music. Felix sighs, nodding in defeat, and murmuring that the band BTS is cooler than them. Jack walks into a small hallway, passing through a beaded curtain that leads to the bathroom, so he can wash his hands and face. That was his last client appointment for today, so he cleans his workstation and organizes everything to his liking.

 

The colorful beads make noises when Jack comes back through again and he sees Marzia leaving her own station with a smile. Her hair is tied up in two messy buns and her sweet perfume invades the room. The brunette ruffles Jack’s hair in affection and the Irishman groans, moving his hands to fix the mess she made. Robin tells them that there are no more appointments for now, unless someone shows up last minute. Jack sits next to Robin behind the counter, hearing the dark wooden floor creak slightly and watching people from Brighton walk by in front of their store. The rustic studio brings a fond smile to the Irishman’s face, not taking for granted that he’s able to work with his friends doing something he loves.

 

“Felix, if I listen to another Korean song today, so help me God…” Robin groans.

 

“Alright, alright!” The Swedish man walks towards his iPhone plugged into the sound system and starts scrolling down his playlist.

 

When it takes too long, Marzia snatches his cell phone with a giggle and decides the new song for him instead. She screams in excitement when The Killers start playing. They all begin to sing along, shouting the lyrics of Mr. Brightside and looking at the each other dramatically. After a while, Jack rolls his eyes and joins them. Felix starts dancing in the middle of the room and Robin uses a pen as a microphone. Jack laughs and slams his hands over the counter several times because his stomach hurts. When the chorus comes, Marzia turns the volume up even more and they raise their arms in the air. 

 

Their giggles fill the space when the song ends and Jack shakes his head, glad that his friends can distract him this way. When there’s still no sign of a new client, the brunette asks if they want to close a little early and go to a pub. Felix agrees immediately and Robin gives a simple nod. They all look at the green-haired man and he rubs the back of his neck, thinking about it. Jack’s been working all day and he didn’t have a moment to ease his mind. Sometimes he disconnects from himself so much while working that it’s hard to come down from it.

 

“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass,” he shrugs. “You guys can go, though. I’ll close the shop, same as always.”

 

They all let out a disappointed sound, but they respect his decision nonetheless. He watches them gather their jackets and he waves goodbye when they leave the studio. Jack sighs and stares at the floor for a moment, blinking slowly while trying to focus back on reality. The Irishman gets up to lock the door behind them and turns the sign of their shop, announcing that they are closed. Turning off the lights, he passes through the beaded curtain again and walks to the right, entering a more private room. Jack likes to spend his time drawing there, the afternoon light coming in the window is perfect and soothing. He picks up a match to light one of his incense sticks and the smell of bamboo eases his mind.

 

The green-haired man takes his dark blue poncho from a shelf that they use to keep non-essential stuff, such as Marzia’s perfume in case she needs it, or extra clothing. Also gummy bears. A lot of gummy bears. Jack wraps himself with the poncho, wanting to feel warm. He sits on one of their desks to draw, distracting himself. The Irishman appreciates the quiet, letting himself be surrounded by the cloud of incense. There’s a small feeling of relief knowing that he lives above their store, so he doesn’t have to go anywhere else. His life is simply  _ here _ . Jack just has to wake up, have breakfast, and then walk downstairs to open their studio.

 

The Irishman’s right hand stops moving over a sketch and he looks down at his arm, the fading light of the day making his faint scars shine. He knits his eyebrows, not liking what he sees, even though he was the one that put them there in the first place. There are a few tattoos marking his body that hide more of them. Jack purses his lips, debating whether he should get a new one or not. All his tattoos need to carry a meaning for him. Something to remember or something to forget.

 

He pulls the long sleeve down enough to cover his arm so he can continue his drawing and a sigh escapes his lips. Hours pass and the moon is high in the sky, glowing. Jack’s mouth curves into a small smile when Felix texts him, saying everyone’s alright and back home. He’s thankful for them letting him know and the Irishman stretches his back, calling it a day. The green-haired man leaves the room when his incense is nothing but ash and the man walks upstairs, hearing the floor creak even more in the night. There’s another beaded curtain instead of a proper door leading to his apartment and he seriously needs to get that fixed, but Jack likes the fond memory of making the curtain with buttons and colorful crystals with Marzia.

 

The moonlight shines through the glass wall of Jack’s home and there are no walls separating the space. He goes to the open kitchen and heats up Chinese food from the day before. Jack leans on the counter and eats by himself, in the quietness of his life. There are round paper lanterns hanging from his ceiling, along with other crystals and ornaments. The Irishman likes to open his windows sometimes so the wind can hit them, making them sing. It’s soothing.

 

The green-haired man enters his room that’s filled with drawings and more incense. He crashes in bed, putting an arm over his face and letting his mind drift away.

  
  


***

  
  


“Are you going to eat that?”

 

Jack takes his eyes away from his cell phone and looks at Robin pointing at the last donut on the counter. Felix and Marzia had brought a couple of pastries this morning and the green-haired man ate a few while sitting next to Robin, since there’s no work for him right now. He tells the Swedish man to go ahead and he huffs when powdered sugar gets on Robin’s face. Jack makes sure to tell him to clean the mess once he’s done, because they need to maintain proper hygiene in the shop. His friend rolls his eyes and mumbles a  _ Yes, mom. _

 

The bell over the door rings and Jack doesn’t look up, knowing that Robin will take care of new possible clients. He scrolls on his cell phone, resting his cheek in one hand, and he listens to what seems to be a male voice talking about his appointment very excitedly. Robin tells the man that Marzia will be right with him. Jack pouts to himself, knowing that he won’t be working because this client booked his friend instead. The Irishman frowns when a stronger American accent reaches his ears and this time, Jack looks up.

 

The first thing that registers in his mind is tan skin. The man’s wearing a button-up, dark purple shirt with long sleeves and a black tie. Jack gazes at his black hair and hazel, half-moon eyes. He’s looking at one of the many frames hung up on the wall that show some of the artist’s work. The Irishman’s eyes flicker to the first person that came in, seeing light skin and curly hair. The tan man looks incredibly small next to the other guy. Robin says something about the copy machine printing the design on the special-carbon paper and the taller man nods patiently.

 

“Hello fellas!” Marzia walks into the room through the crystal curtain with a beautiful smile. “Which one of you is Dan?”

 

“That would be me, ma'am!” the curly-haired man - Dan - raises an arm and greets the brunette.

 

Jack watches them discuss a little about the process, but his eyes focus back at the tan man in the back. Dan sends his friend an anxious look and the man with the half-moon eyes gives an assuring smile, saying that he will be here waiting for him. Marzia takes Dan to her workstation and the Irishman stares down at his cell phone once again, gazing at the man every now and then. Jack can see Robin squinting his eyes next to him and slowly grinning, so the green-haired man looks at him to mouth a silent  _ Don’t you dare. _ They have a telepathic discussion, the Swedish man nodding and the Irishman shaking his head.

 

“So,” Robin turns to talk to the tan man and Jack holds back the urge to groan, knowing he was defeated. “What is your name again?”

 

“I’m Mark,” the brunet says with a smile, still looking around the studio.

 

“Alright, I’m Robin and this is Jack.” The Swedish man points at him and the green-haired man sends an awkward half-wave from behind the counter. Mark returns the gesture and sits on the couch, his back towards the studio’s window. “Would you like some tea? Jack could make you some tea. He’s doing nothing right now.”

 

Jack’s eyes widen and Mark murmurs his answer.

 

“Uh, sure. I’d love some.”

 

When Mark turns his face away from them, Jack pulls his friend by the ear and the blond-haired man yelps in fake pain.

 

“The fuck you think you’re doing?” the Irishman whispers harshly. “We’ve talked about this before.”

 

“What? You not socializing?” Robin sighs when Jack glares at him. “C’mon, it won’t hurt to just make some tea for the guy. Not my fault you keep looking at him…”

 

The green-haired man shakes his head and moves to get up, knowing that discussing this right now would not be professional. He walks upstairs, pushing the curtain aside to enter his kitchen, and he fills a kettle with water, scowling. His friends have the habit of trying to hook him up with anyone he shows the slightest interest in, but Jack doesn’t really appreciate  their meddling. He likes the quietness of his life, even if his friends turn the volume up a couple of times. It’s nice. Besides, he can always have one-night stands if he wants to. There’s no rush for any relationship. Jack glares at the kettle’s steam, hoping that they don’t overwhelm him again.

 

When Jack comes back down, he’s carrying a small tray with a cup of tea and some biscuits. 

 

“I… I forgot to ask what you like, so I just added a spoon of sugar?” Jack murmurs. “It’s apple tea.”

 

“Thank you, that’s perfect.”

 

Jack places it next to Mark, on a round table stand, and the Irishman can feel the brunet’s eyes gazing at his tattoos that are exposed by his black T-shirt’s short sleeves. Jack chews on his lips, wanting to hide behind the counter, but he takes a deep breath. He feels self-conscious of all the tattoos that mark his body, and the wings on his back that stretch down to his biceps burn his skin. Mark takes a sip from his tea and he hums in delight, thanking the Irishman once again.

 

“Uh,” Jack stutters. “You’re not here to get a tattoo, are you?”

 

“Oh, no. I’m here because my friend Dan didn’t want to come alone, I wanted to support him. It’s his first tattoo.”

 

“Right.”

 

Jack sends a look in Robin’s direction, whose wide eyes say  _ Go on, _ but the green-haired man shrugs lightly at him instead. The Irishman turns his back on the American and crosses his arms behind the counter, ignoring Robin’s glare. Jack holds back a sigh of relief when a woman walks into their studio and he is more than ready to distract himself with work. He’s a little bummed when he realizes that the woman wants a simple design on her hand, much like his, meaning that it won’t take too long on his end. Jack does his best, nonetheless, hoping that the American is gone by the time he finishes the tattoo.

 

He’s not.

 

However, the green-haired man sees his friend leave Marzia’s chair paler than before. The brunette is chuckling and telling him to make an appointment to finish the shading of the design. Dan rubs the back of his neck. Felix walks in, nodding at everyone in greeting and leans against the counter. He pets Robin’s hair, both Swedish men grinning at each other. Mark asks how Dan is feeling after the first session and the taller friend half-laughs, half-groans.

 

“I feel like the eye of Sauron is on my back, to be honest...” he says.

 

“Reference Jar!” Everyone from the studio says that in unison, making the two men look at them with puzzled faces.

 

The four of them point at the glass jar on top of the counter that has a worn-out paper stuck to it, scrawled with the exact same words that they said. It’s half filled with coins and a few notes. They started this as a joke, but then it snowballed when they realized that their lives consist in movie references. Might as well do something with it, and they keep telling Jack to use the money to buy a new door. Dan shakes his head and chuckles, taking a coin out of his wallet and putting it in the jar. Everyone nods fiercely.

 

After making sure that the client is alright and giving him the correct instructions, they make a new appointment for next week and Dan waves goodbye. Mark awkwardly glances at Jack before saying it was nice meeting them. The Irishman can feel Robin’s eyes burning on the back of his head when he says the same half-heartedly, with a frown, and doesn’t wave back. All his friends turn to look at him when the Americans leave and Jack looks at the them, feeling exposed.

 

“What?”

 

“Why are you suddenly so grumpy?” Felix says. “I thought you ate today. We brought coffee and donuts, man.”

 

“I’m  _ not _ grumpy.”

 

“He’s mad because I made him talk to the Hot American,” Robin explains and the couple makes an  _ Oh  _ sound, understanding their friend’s behavior.

 

“He seems kind!” Marzia sing songs. “Dan said a few things about him, both of them seem like really nice people.”

 

Jack scowls, knowing where this is going.

 

“I bet he is… Jack couldn’t stop looking at him. So pretty.”

 

“He will come back with Dan, right, Marzia?” Felix asks her and she gives them a thumbs up.

 

“Guys,” Jack interrupts them. “Please, leave him alone. Don’t make this embarrassing for me. Again.”

 

They all huff and try to defend themselves, saying they never did such thing. The green-haired man looks at the ceiling, choosing to ignore them and reevaluating his friendship choices. He sighs when they all disperse, going back to work and organizing their own supplies. Jack gets up, passing through the beaded curtains to light some incense out of anxiety. He usually doesn’t do that during working hours, but given that today is not that busy, he makes an exception in order to calm his mind. Jack scratches his non-dominant arm lightly, feeling faint scars of the past.

 

He feels a little better after doing some breathing exercises and the incense fragrance does its job well. Felix nudges him lightly in the afternoon, making sure that he stops to eat and drink. The subject from earlier is dropped while they dig through sushi that evening, and Jack’s so thankful for that. It was probably Marzia’s doing, convincing the boys to behave. She’s truly the best, and the green-haired man makes a mental note to buy something nice for her. Robin sends him an apologetic look at the end of their meal. Jack can’t help but roll his eyes and shove him softly.

 

They all chuckle and the Irishman watches them leave after a while. He comes back into the studio, closing the door and turning off the lights. Jack walks upstairs in the routine of his life, the colorful lights of his lanterns shining in the dark of his apartment. The green-haired man places a vinyl disc on his old record player and chooses to relax with soothing music in the background. The sound wanders through the open space and Jack pours himself a glass of wine before going to bed, telling himself that he deserves something like that.

 

The last thing that crosses his mind is tan skin and half-moon eyes.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to update at least one chapter per week, but just letting you guys know that I'll be back to college in two days. So things might get a little out of control, especially because it's my last year. Either way, I felt like I needed to post this to keep me motivated! Otherwise this would be just rotting in my computer hahah. Thanks for reading! ♥
> 
> [Storyboard](https://pinterest.com/sparklepines/beneath-my-skin-stars-collide/) (lots of reference for you to visualize jack's tattoos)  
> [Playlist](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gKM15TaKLUI&list=PL6XgzmiBk09Gp2Yuuc_Lq-eFLPTcqhbpf&index=1) (it plays on their studio, so there you go)  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

On Mondays, the studio stays closed and Jack likes to walk aimlessly around Brighton, finding quirky stores on every corner. He’s already holding a plastic bag in one hand, filled with incense and gemstones. Jack pulls on his beanie while looking at a new store’s window, seeing their weird knick knacks and thinking that Marzia would very much like one of those skulls made of glass. The green-haired man decides to buy that and happily walks towards the pier of his city, wanting to just watch the sun set and hear the waves of the sea.

 

When he arrives at the place, already looking for a bench to sit on or just a simple spot to rest, Jack stops in the middle of the pier. His eyes find Mark leaning his elbows on the white bars, wearing a formal suit and looking at the sea. The Irishman’s heart beats faster and he stands there, debating whether or not he should talk to him. _ Will he even remember who I am? Will that be weird? _ Jack thinks to himself. He rolls his eyes, knowing he acted like an asshole before and probably should apologize. Being social and all. He sighs, but walks towards the man with wary steps. The American seems not to have noticed the Irishman’s presence, so he clears his throat.

 

“Hi.”

 

Mark turns his face and immediately his eyes shine in recognition. “Oh, hey! Jack, right?” He extends his hand and the Irishman purses his lips, knowing he has no choice but to accept the handshake. “It’s good to see you.”

 

“Yeah…” he mumbles after dropping his hand, shuffling on his feet when Mark notices his finger tattoos. “Uh, sorry about the other day. I guess I’m not good with first impressions.”

 

Mark chuckles.

 

_ Oh no. _

 

Jack huffs, finding it funny that they’re dressed alarmingly different. The man is dressed up so formally, dark grey suit and black tie, while the Irishman’s wearing a black sweater-jacket over an old shirt. Jack pulls on his beanie, feeling self-conscious of his gauges. Mark clearly is a man of business and the green-haired man doesn’t know how the brunet feels about, well,  _ him. _ The Irishman decides to lean against the fence just like Mark, trying to enjoy the sunset and feel the wind hitting his face. He can feel the brunet’s eyes on him.

 

“You still don’t want a tattoo?” Jack asks, hoping that the man stops gazing at him. He holds back a sigh of relief when the man chuckles, both of them look at the view.

 

“Nah, ain’t my thing.”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“Hey, are you assuming that I am a square?” Mark squints his eyes.

 

“Maybe,” Jack smirks. “I don’t know you.”

 

They smile and there’s a brief silence where they just listen to the children laughing in the background, people chatting and walking behind them. Jack inhales, the smell of cotton candy and the salty water fills the air. Mark hums and murmurs something about liking this place. The green-haired man turns to face him, watching the American blink softly. The lights from the pier come to life when the sun sets and the first star in the sky appears. When the Irishman asks if he’s new in town, the brunet says he doesn’t live here in the first place.

 

“Oh,” Jack murmurs. “So you’re only visiting?”

 

“I’m here because of work. It’s just now that I managed to catch some time to actually see the place. But yeah, America is my home.”

 

The Irishman nods and Mark mentions his friend, Dan. It was a nice coincidence that they traveled here at the same time. Apparently his friend tours with his band and Mark is more than willing to find time for their show before going back to Los Angeles. Jack can’t deny feeling a little disappointed knowing that the brunet will not be here forever, but he pushes that thought away as quickly as it came. Instead, he clicks his tongue and asks if Mark wants to go to the Arcade with him. The brunet’s hazel eyes beam and he shoots the most adorable crooked smile at Jack.

 

_ Oh no, _ he thinks again.

 

The green-haired man puts his hands in his pockets, feeling the plastic bag hit his thigh softly. He makes a motion with his chin, telling Mark to hurry up so he can kick his ass in a game. The American huffs, but follows him with a grin.

  
  


***

  
  


“You went on a date with the American Pie and you didn’t tell me?!”

 

Jack flinches at Robin’s questioning him too early in the morning. He raises his hands at the Swedish man, as if saying  _ Calm your tits. _ Robin leans against the kitchen counter of Jack’s apartment, waiting for him to get a cup of coffee. The Irishman scratches his belly, shaking sleep away from him. It’s always harder to start a new day when its Robin’s turn to set up everything in the studio. Everyone has a spare key to the workplace, so it’s not a surprise when the Irishman finds one of them in his home randomly. Goddamnit, he needs a door. Jack yawns and grabs himself a clean mug.

 

“First of all, it was  _ not _ a date. We just crossed paths. And second,” he mumbles and pours himself some coffee. “That is one for the Reference Jar.”

 

“Fine.” Robin groans.

 

The Swedish man walks downstairs, already ignoring Jack. The green-haired man sighs and decides to just get ready for another day. He pushes aside the beaded curtain and smiles when the rest of his friends arrive. Jack gives Marzia her gift and she screams excitedly, hugging him and showing it to Felix. The day is nice and calm. Robin plays a Katy Perry song once and murmurs that is his guilty pleasure. Everyone nods and pats him on the back, accepting the music.

 

When the doorbell rings in the afternoon, Jack turns to see the two Americans at the door and his heart beats a little faster. Mark is wearing a black button-up shirt and his smiling at Jack. The green-haired man stands up from behind the counter, catching Robin’s attention. He pushes a few strands of hair away from his forehead before returning the smile. Mark’s eyes turn into half-moons.

 

“Hi.” Jack says.

 

“Hi, you.”

 

It’s quiet after that, both of them smiling like idiots until Dan clears his throat. They look at him and Jack flushes, realizing he forgot to greet Mark’s friend. Robin whistles and proceeds to talk to Dan. Jack ducks his head and sits back on the stool, ignoring the way that Mark chuckles again. Marzia comes over and takes the taller man to her chair so they can finish the tattoo on his back. Robin is not subtle when he says that he will be with Felix in the other room. The tip of Jack’s ears burn and the brunet shuffles on his feet, noticing that they are alone. The Irishman really feels like grabbing his poncho now, because his white tank top reveals too much. He’s never been so self-conscious before and it’s giving him a headache.

 

“I like your gauges.” Mark’s low voice reaches his ears and the brunet leans against the counter, closer to Jack. “Your tattoos are also really cool.”

 

The Irishman feels a bit of anxiety leaving his body and he sends a small smile, relaxing his shoulders. “I thought it wasn’t your thing.”

 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate art. I like yours.”

 

“Is this because I beat you in the Arcade? Do you want the plushie that I won? Mr. Minty, the alpaca?”

 

“Pff, no,” Mark says. “I can win as many plushies as I want.”

 

“Oh, really?” Jack raises one eyebrow. “Is this a challenge?”

 

The brunet shrugs as an answer and the green-haired man chuckles. They spend some time talking about everything and nothing, Jack listening to the brunet’s smooth voice. Felix and Robin come back after a while, joining in. Mark checks on Dan sometimes, wanting to know if his friend is still alive, and Felix wiggles his eyebrows at the Irishman. Jack rolls his eyes and chooses to stay quiet. Overall, everything is really nice and the green-haired man genuinely finds himself liking their presence. Mark radiates happiness and the Irishman struggles to take his eyes off him.

 

Dan finally leaves the chair and Marzia places Felix’s arm around her shoulders. They all exchange a couple of words and the taller man is more than happy when he invites them to his show. Jack immediately feels anxious again, looking at his friends for an answer, but they are already nodding and thanking him. The Irishman purses his lips and clenches his hands when their heads turn to see him, waiting for his response. Mark sends him a hopeful look and Jack holds back a sigh. Dan singsongs that there will be an open bar in a way to convince Jack and Robin nudges him lightly.

 

“It’ll be nice to have you there,” Mark says to him. “Plus, I can drive everyone home if it’s needed. I don’t drink.”

 

Jack blinks at him and then huffs, shaking his head.

 

“Alright, I’ll go.”

 

Everyone cheers and Mark smiles at him. The Irishman listens to Dan giving their information of the place, saying it will be this next Friday. When they leave, Jack finally sighs and scratches the back of his head. His friends are staring at him with silly expressions, so the green-haired man sends them a questioning look. For once, they stay quiet and just shake their heads as if it’s nothing. Marzia giggles.

 

“It’s nice seeing you more happy,” she says to him.

 

“What?”

 

“I’m just saying that you smile more when you talk to Mark. He seems really nice, Jack.”

 

“I barely know him,” he answers back and ignores the light blush that touches his cheeks. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. Mark doesn’t live here, he’ll go back to America.”

 

“What? When?” Felix exclaims.

 

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask.”

 

“Dude!” Robin says.

 

“I’m sorry, but I wasn’t interrogating the guy. We just played some games after he said that and that was it.”

 

Jack scowls and leaves them, wanting some time to himself. He walks into the room behind the beaded curtains and opens a drawer of his desk. The Irishman takes a rose quartz stone in his hand, rubbing his thumb over it. The cold crystal soothes him and he sighs, choosing to sit down and close his eyes. Jack thinks about what Marzia said and wonders if she really means it. Mark’s face comes to his mind, his half-moon eyes shining and his crooked smile that reveals dimples. Sure, the guy is nice and the green-haired man won’t deny the feeling of wanting to know him better.

 

But he will leave.

 

Getting close to him will only make things worse. Jack nods to himself, coming to a conclusion. He’ll go to the club and have fun, have some drinks, be polite. And that’s it. Mark will no longer cross his path and Jack can go back to brooding. There. The Irishman opens his eyes, feeling calm, and he puts the stone back into the drawer. He distracts himself with sketches and outlining common requests of tattoos for display. Jack focuses on the task, feeling satisfied with himself.

  
  


***

  
  


The green-haired man stares at himself in the mirror of his room and he sighs, giving up on fixing his hair. He tugs on his black tank-top and looks down at his skinny jeans of the same color. Jack sees Marzia entering his room looking stunning and she beams when looking at him. The Irishman blushes with her praise, but he smiles nonetheless. His friends are already waiting downstairs to go out and Marzia makes sure that Jack puts on some cologne before leaving the room. 

 

Everyone gets in Felix’s car and they drive towards the nightclub. When they park the vehicle, there’s a drum in his heart that matches the pounding music coming from the club and Jack has to wipe his hands on his jeans, palms sweaty with anxiety and expectation. Robin places his arm around Jack’s shoulders and the green-haired man smiles at him, thankful for his silent support. The Irishman tells himself that there’s nothing to be nervous about, but his body tells him otherwise. They find Mark waiting for them at the door and they all wave at him.

 

Jack eyes him up and down, seeing the American in informal clothes for the first time. He’s wearing a white shirt and tight jeans that makes the Irishman’s mouth salivate. He swallows when they lock their gaze and Mark’s smile is small, just for him. Jack forgets to greet him like everyone else when the brunet scans his arms and collarbone that the tank-top reveals. He clenches his hands and stumbles on his words.

 

“I need a drink,” is the first thing that comes out of his lips and his friends look at him funny.

 

They all enter the club, embracing the loud electronic music that reaches their ears and shakes their bones. The artificial smoke invades Jack’s nostrils and the sea of people is already swaying with the rhythm. Mark shouts at them, saying Dan is getting ready for the live show and Felix sends a thumbs up. Jack’s hyperfocused, not wanting to get separated from everyone and he’s more than happy when they find a table. However, he really wasn’t kidding about the drink. The Irishman excuses himself and he asks for a shot of whiskey right away. The beverage burns down his throat and Jack groans softly to himself, enjoying the taste.

 

“Relax, big boy.”

 

Mark pats his back when he slides next to him and Jack chokes on his second shot. He shakes his head and composes himself.

 

“I  _ am _ relaxing,” he half shouts.

 

Mark snorts and Jack watches him talk to the bartender, ordering a couple of beers for his friends. The light from the club makes Mark’s eyes look darker than before and he has a strand of hair that’s curling over his forehead. It makes him want to tuck it away as an excuse to touch Mark. Jack frowns at himself, wondering what the hell he is thinking. The brunet nudges him to come back to the table and the Irishman follows him after another shot.

 

When Dan’s band is announced, Ninja Sex Party, everyone from the table shouts and whistles. Marzia, Felix and Robin go to the dance floor, but Jack doesn’t miss the look that Robin sends him. He bites his lips when they just stay there listening to the music. The Irishman takes a sip of Felix’s beer and tells the American that his friend is very talented, that their music is really good. Mark smiles at him and, after a couple of minutes, Jack begins to feel a light buzz under his skin.

 

The green-haired man tries to look at the tan man without being noticed and he watches Mark’s lashes bat softly on his skin. At one point, the American rests his arm on the back Jack’s chair and he can feel their skin brushing, emanating heat. He doesn’t know how long he stares, but eventually Mark turns to face him. He raises an eyebrow and a crooked smirk shows on his face. It makes Jack feel a pang in his heart.

 

“Dance with me,” he says.

 

Mark seems genuinely surprised at Jack’s words and it makes him chuckle when his doe eyes widen. The Irishman gets up and pulls the American with him, taking his hand to guide him through the dance floor. The neon lights cast over them in the middle of the crowd and Jack finds himself smiling, forgetting his anxiety for once. He closes his eyes and raises his arm in the air, feeling the music and letting the beat hit him like a wave. Mark stays close to him and they laugh at their first awkward movements.

 

When he starts loosening up, the green-haired man makes sure to move more of his hips and Mark follows him, eyes not leaving his body. There’s a quick thought that crosses Jack’s mind, wanting to feel desirable. There are warm hands touching his waist and the Irishman sees the brunet’s dark gaze through the artificial smoke. He grins and places his arms over Mark’s shoulders. Jack breathes the American’s musky scent in this short distance and it’s delightful.

 

When Mark’s fingers brush under his tank-top, Jack jumps away like he’s been burned and the distance between them increases. The brunet looks at him with worry, already opening his mouth to apologize, but the Irishman interrupts him first. He mumbles something about getting another drink and he leaves the dance floor. Jack scratches his forehead, feeling the faint white scars on his hips more than ever. He busies himself with scotch this time and the buzz grows even more in his body, limbs feeling a little heavier and mind swimming if he turns too fast.

 

Jack goes back to the table with his drink and finds his friends there, so he plops his ass on the chair and everything kind of becomes a blur. But he does see Robin snorting a cocktail through his nose, Felix throwing his head back in laughter while Marzia rolls her eyes. There’s also Dan in blue glittery spandex coming to greet them after the live show. The pounding music always present and the smell of sweat and alcohol in the air. He also sees Mark’s face late in the night, talking to him about something he can’t quite remember.

 

And then, he passes out.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Mr. Minty, the Alpaca](http://i.ebayimg.com/images/g/xX8AAOSwofxUhGwB/s-l640.jpg) ♥  
> 


	3. Chapter 3

A groan escapes Jack’s lips when he finally stirs himself awake, then immediately regrets it because there’s a headache threatening to crack his skull in half. The Irishman blinks, adjusting his vision to the faint light coming through his window curtain. Good to know that he’s in his home. Jack licks his dry lips and tries to swallow, grimacing. He pushes up on his elbows, knowing his face is marked by the sheets from sleeping on his stomach. The Irishman rubs his eyes and looks around the room, wanting to find his cell phone.

 

He pats the floor beneath the bed and finds what he’s looking for. Jack squints his eyes at the bright light and groans when he realizes the time. It’s almost midday and he is more than late for work. Jack sees a bunch of notifications on his screen, so he opens his messages to read them.

 

**From Felix, 3:42am:**

_don’t tell robin i owe him money, the bastard has enough ego already_

 

**From Robin, 3:51am:**

_im textin this while u r droolin next to me in the car. im sendin u a photo so i can harass u later. ps: felix owes me 50 euros bc he didnt think i could do The Worm_

 

**From Robin, 8:02am:**

_time for Sleeping Beauty to wake the fuck up!!!_

 

**From Marzia, 8:21am:**

_Good morning, hon. Don’t worry about today, I opened the studio and you can come down whenever you feel like it. Take your time to rest! xoxo_

 

**From XXX-XXX, 9:04am:**

_Hey, it’s Mark. You gave me your number last night. I had lots of fun. Anyways, I hope you’re doing okay._

 

Jack frowns at the last message. not remembering about that, but glad that Mark texted him. He sends a quick message to Marzia saying he will come down later, but that everything is fine. Then, he gets up from bed to stretch himself and go to the bathroom. Jack empties his bladder before washing his hands and face. While brushing his teeth, the Irishman opens his medicine cabinet to take some aspirin and swallows it down with water straight from the tap. Jack picks up his phone from the bed and his thumbs hover over the screen, thinking of what to reply to a certain American.

 

**To Mark, 11:34am:**

_bad choices were made, i’ve got a massive headache._

 

**From Mark, 11:35am:**

_hangover, huh?_

 

**To Mark, 11:35am:**

_ugh_

 

Jack runs a hand through his messy hair and walks into the open kitchen, turning on the coffee machine and putting some bread in the toaster. The Irishman sits on his stool while spreading some jam on his toast and he sighs into the coffee mug. He feels like shit, but Mark’s messages make the corner of his lips curl into a small smile. Jack still doesn’t ask when the American is leaving Brighton, somehow wanting to forget about that fact, as silly as it sounds.

 

He takes a shower before going downstairs, feeling more like himself again. Jack brushes back the few damp strands of hair over his face and he yelps when Felix shows up next to him, pressing an air horn can. The Irishman swears out loud, but his friend doesn’t seem bothered by the noise. He knits his eyebrows when his headache throbs again, but then he sighs. Jack looks at the silver-haired man and realization hits him when he sees a small rectangle painted on Felix’s cheek, with the pansexual flag colors.

 

“It’s pride weekend!”

 

There’s more air horn sounds and this time, Jack chuckles. He sees that Marzia’s painting the bisexual flag on Robin’s left cheek, much like hers, and the Irishman immediately asks her to do a rainbow one for him. She sends him a thumbs up and Felix ruffles his hair in affection. They all ask if Jack is feeling alright because of last night and the green-haired man flushes a bit out of embarrassment, apologizing for drinking too much. Robin does harass him about the picture, just like he promised.

 

Jack sees to some clients throughout the afternoon, hearing the buzzing machine constantly and sketching designs. At one point, they stop to look outside when they hear the cheer coming from people in the streets, and they agree to walk around the city for a bit after closing the studio. The Irishman promises to pay for the pizza tonight and everyone nods. When Marzia asks if Mark can come with them, Jack purses his lips.

 

“I’m not sure, he must be busy,” he says. “Plus, I don’t know if he celebrates these things…”

 

“You won’t know until you’ve tried, right?” she replies.

 

Jack scratches the back of his head, humming. He remembers how nervous he was last night next to the man, but trying to look at him whenever he could. The Irishman is not stupid. He knows that he’s starting to feel something towards the American, even though there’s a huge sign saying that it won’t work at all. It’s been a long time since Jack felt captivated over someone. Hell, it’s been ages since he got laid. The green-haired man stops to think that if he was ever going to be with Mark, it wouldn’t be just for sex. It doesn’t feel right.

 

The Irishman leans on his chair and takes his cell phone from his back pocket. _Fuck it,_ he thinks and texts the American.

 

**To Mark, 4:23pm:**

_hey, u busy?_

 

**From Mark, 4:26pm:**

_Nope! Escaped work earlier, thank fuck._

 

Jack chuckles at the screen, thinking that Mark cursing is actually quite funny.

 

**To Mark, 4:27pm:**

_we r gonna close at 6pm bc we wanna hang a bit. its pride weekend. wanna come over? there will be pizza_

 

The brunet doesn’t answer right away and that makes Jack anxious, worried that he fucked something up. What if Mark doesn’t like these things? These people? Him? The Irishman shakes his head and leaves his workroom to sit next to Robin behind the counter, distracting himself a little bit. The Swedish man has an actual bisexual flag wrapped around his neck and he tells Jack that Marzia already picked up his from upstairs. The Irishman nods, leaning his head on his friend’s shoulder. His cell phone buzzes in his hand and he doesn’t waste time to unlock it.

 

**From Mark, 4:31pm:**

_Yeah, of course! If everyone is okay to have me, I mean. I’m always down for pizza._

 

Jack sighs in relief and smiles at the message. He pokes Robin’s belly to say that Mark is indeed joining them and everyone happily waits to close the studio. Which, thankfully, doesn’t take too long. The Irishman lets Felix wrap his rainbow flag over his shoulders, like a superhero cape, and Marzia gives Felix his. They all turn their heads to the front door when there’s tap on their window, only to see Mark waving at them. Robin is the first one to leave and hug the American, who’s wearing a dark blue sweater. Jack tugs on the flag behind him, feeling self-conscious about it and hoping that the brunet really doesn’t mind.

 

“Hi,” he greets Mark after finally closing the studio.

 

“Hi, you.”

 

“Are you guys gonna do that every time?” Robin interrupts. Jack flushes while Mark snorts.

 

The Irishman listens to the music from the parade and they all start walking in the middle of the street. It’s not as crowded as it was during the day, but it’s still fun to see all the people showing their pride. Jack is walking next to Mark, their arms keep brushing every now and then and there is confetti in their hair. He remembers how close they were last night at the nightclub, face flushed because of the drinks and something else. The brunet calls his attention by touching Jack’s right cheek and the green-haired man gasps in surprise.

 

“That’s really cool,” Mark murmurs.

 

 _Oh,_ he thinks. _The painted flag on my cheek._

 

“Oh,” Jack repeats himself. “Right. Yeah, uh. What about you?”

 

Mark’s thumb leaves his face, but the Irishman can still feel it burning his skin. He swallows and looks forward, seeing Marzia waving her mini flags and Felix spinning next to Robin. The American puts his hands in his pockets, looking thoughtful.

 

“Meh, I never quite put a label in myself. I just kinda rolled with it.” He shrugs, but grins. “I like whoever I like. And that makes me happy.”

 

Jack finds himself returning the smile, feeling more relieved. A small weight fades from his heart and the Irishman enjoys their time, shouting along with some people and laughing with his friends. The green-haired man does remember to say he’s sorry for passing out on Mark, but the brunet seems to genuinely understand and just brushes it off. The American takes Jack’s hand in his to make him dance in the middle of the street, however. He says he deserves it and Jack doesn’t deny it. They chuckle and the green-haired man wraps his fingers between Mark’s, feeling his heart skip a bit and his body flush.

 

They all eventually take their hands in a circle and spin like kids, laughing and spinning along with the music. The sun begins to set and the air gets a little colder. Jack screams that it’s time for pizza and no one protests. Felix dramatically enters the pizza shop, flashing his flag over his shoulder like it’s a vampire cape. They eat three boxes of pizza, two of them being veggie. Mark snickers when someone shoots them a horrified look from across the table, seeing the battle field. Jack likes how his face scrunches up, how his leg goes up and shoulders shake from laughter. It’s endearing.

 

Shit.

 

Jack’s thoughts are interrupted when he feels his cell phone buzzing from his pocket and the green-haired man unlocks it. He uses all his power to hold back a groan, not wanting Mark to see the message.

 

**From Felix, 7:49pm:**

_invite him over, u fuckin egg_

 

The Irishman glares at Felix from across the table and the Swedish man raises his eyebrows, trying to point at Mark with his chin without being too obvious. Thankfully Mark is caught up in a conversation with Marzia about horror movies, so he doesn’t notice when Robin kicks Jack’s leg from under their table. The Irishman watches Felix type more messages feverishly, but he doesn’t check them every time his cell phone buzzes.

 

“Mark, Jack wants to ask you something,” Robin basically shouts when it takes too long and Jack is grateful that he’s not drinking anything right now, because he would have spilled all over them.

 

“Uh,” the American turns his attention to the Irishman. “What is it?”

 

Jack bites on his cheek, fidgeting with his fingers over his lap. He rubs the back of his neck and avoids looking at Mark in the eye when opening his mouth to speak.

 

“I… I was thinking maybe you would like to hang out at my house? After this? If you want?” he shutters.

 

He can see Mark’s grin from the corner of his eye.

 

“Yeah…” he says. “I would like that very much.”

 

“Great.”

 

Everyone smiles and Jack pretends he doesn’t see Felix winking.

  


***

  


The keychain hits Jack’s hand when he opens the studio door and the floor creaks when they step inside. The green-haired man guides Mark towards the hallway, somehow the lights out making them whisper their words and they walk upstairs side by side. The American raises an eyebrow at the sign of no door and Jack shrugs, pushing aside the beaded curtain and showing his apartment. There’s a small sense of pride looking at Mark’s awed expression, feeling happy that the brunet likes what he sees. The Irishman struggled a lot to have a place to be comfortable enough and thankfully, with the help of his friends, they all managed to make this one feel like _home._

 

Mark points at the lanterns and ornaments on the ceiling, adoring the way they twinkle with the moonlight coming from the window. His hands trace wind chimes and dreamcatchers. Jack smiles and rubs the back of his neck, murmuring a _Thanks_. Then, the green-haired man asks if he can light some incense and put on some music while he makes tea. Mark beams and nods with a quiet, but firm, _Heck yeah_. Jack snorts and chooses an amber scent this time. The brunet walks towards the small vinyl collection, next to his record player, and the Irishman lets him pick the song while he boils some water.

 

There’s still a little anxiety hovering over Jack, but he has to admit that this feels pleasant, peaceful. He smiles when Mark puts on some soft instrumental music to play and the Irishman talks to the brunet while pouring their tea. When Jack comes back, the American is looking at his shelves, filled with knick knacks and art books. The Irishman murmurs something about liking Van Gogh’s work the most and Mark hums, taking a sip of his chamomile drink and turning to face him. He snorts.

 

“What?" Jack asks.

 

“You still have confetti on your hair,” he chuckles. “And the painting is all smudgy.”

 

“Oh.” The Irishman moves a hand up to brush off the confetti.

 

“Here.” Mark takes him by the arm and makes them sit down on the couch. He puts their drinks on the coffee table and then his hands are on Jack’s hair. The green-haired man freezes, choosing to just stare at Mark while he touches his hair and control his breathing. “Oh, man… There’s glitter,” he laughs.

 

Jack groans, but smiles with the American. Mark’s fingers bury in his hair and he starts caressing his head after a moment, forgetting his task. The Irishman’s breathing becomes shallow, eyes locking with the brunet’s. Mark’s thumb is brushing over Jack’s cheek and there’s only the faint instrumental music as background noise. The green-haired man flickers his gaze to Mark’s mouth and his fingers fidget over his lap, wanting to do something with them. The American looks at his lips when Jack bites on them and the green-haired man sucks in air.

 

When Mark starts leaning forward, Jack feels slightly panicked and without thinking twice about it, he opens his mouth to speak.

 

“When are you leaving?”

 

The rushed words make the brunet stop and he blinks several times at Jack before flushing and clearing his throat. The Irishman feels a pang in his heart when Mark’s hand falls from his face and Jack looks down at his lap.

 

“Tuesday morning,” he whispers and the green-haired man nods lightly, realizing it’s only two days from now.

 

Jack avoids looking at Mark, even though he can feel those hazel eyes watching him intently. The tea is cold and the small comfort that he felt before is gone. The American feels oddly out of place for the first time, clenching his hands and probably not knowing what to do. Jack almost feels bad for breaking the moment, but he keeps telling himself that it won’t matter once Mark gets back to the United States. Nothing of this will.

 

When the silence stretches for too long, Mark murmurs that he needs to go and Jack only agrees. They walk downstairs, the Irishman following him behind and unlocking the studio’s front door for him. Mark flashes a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes and Jack hates that he’s responsible for that. It sounds genuine when the brunet says that he had fun, and the green-haired man returns the smile softly. They exchange a long look, the space between them begging to shorten, but the Irishman breaks the eye contact and Mark turns to leave.

 

Jack looks down at his hands once the brunet is out of sight, observing the tattoos that kiss his fingers and still feeling Mark’s ghostly touch. The green-haired man feels a craving need for contact that threatens to consume him alive. He purses his lips and walks back inside, repeating to himself that he did the right thing.

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

“Nothing happened.”

 

He expects Felix to groan or roll his eyes when he got an unwanted answer, to show frustration, but the Swedish man stays quiet after Jack’s words. He studies the Irishman’s face before walking closer to him, where Jack is finishing frying some eggs for breakfast. The green-haired man sighs and lets Felix tug on his long colorful poncho while he cooks some more, placing them on a plate and offering it to his friend. The silver-haired man shakes his head, but sits next to Jack while he eats. The wind chimes sing in the breeze from the open window, sending a comfortable lullaby to their ears.

 

“Are you alright?” is what Felix asks, and Jack knows that he turned the  _ Protective Friend Mode _ on. The jokes are pushed aside and his tone of voice shows concern, care. It brings a soft smile to his face.

 

“Yeah,” Jack says. “Maybe. No. I don’t know.”

 

Felix listens to him explain what exactly happened last night, how he felt anxious about compromising himself with someone who won’t exactly be here, how frightening it suddenly was, even though he wanted to kiss Mark so badly. Jack murmurs something about his heart not being able to handle that, though this thought is more to himself. The Swedish man heard it nonetheless and he purses his lips, casting his eyes down and thinking of what to say. The green-haired man loves his friends so much, adores how they actually care and try to help. He loves Felix for tugging on his clothes like a child, showing affection without invading his personal space too much. He would be nothing without them.

 

“When is he going back to America?”

 

“Tuesday morning.”

 

“Fuck.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Shit.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Jack eats some more, forcing himself to put food in his stomach and not just coffee. Felix jiggles his leg and scratches his beard. The Irishman tries to think of something with him, but maybe is better to just forget about everything. He tells Felix that Mark only met them by accident, because of Dan. If anything, they were just clients who were nice enough to take them to Dan’s show. That’s basically it. Mark has no obligation to go out with them, to see them at all.

 

“Jack, listen to yourself. You’re pining. Both of you. Don’t you think it’s better to actually  _ talk _ with him?” Felix says. “Marzia and I started with a long-distance relationship, remember? She came to visit me from Italy. Sure, it was hard sometimes, but we managed it. I’d do anything for her because I love her.”

 

“That’s really sweet, Fe,” Jack huffs a soft laugh at his friend’s passion. “But we barely know each other. Heck, Mark probably just wanted to get laid and I’m just overthinking.”

 

“Jack, don’t get me wrong. I love you, buddy. But sometimes I’d really like to punch you in the face. Get your head out of your ass, you know? Simple things, I don’t ask for much.”

 

The Irishman can’t help but chuckle and Felix lightly bumps their shoulders together, shaking his head. When the Swedish man suggests a goodbye party on Monday, Jack chokes on his coffee and immediately denies it. Felix ignores him and takes his cell phone from his pocket to text Marzia. The green-haired man takes everything back about loving his friends. Scratch that. He needs new ones. 

 

“You may not want to see him, but  _ we _ do. I’m sure that everyone would like to say goodbye and Robin will whine about it.”

 

“I’m not avoiding him, I’m just saying that nothing more will happen.”

 

“Sure,” he murmurs while he answers Marzia’s several texts.

 

“Felix.”

 

The silver-haired man pats his back and tells him to get ready for work. Jack watches him go downstairs and he sighs, feeling exhausted already.

  
  


***

  
  


**To Mark, 3:12pm:**

_ Ma and Fe r askin if u like indian food _

 

**From Mark, 3:15pm:**

_ Yes, I do! Why? Can I invite myself? _

 

**To Mark, 3:15pm:**

_ u only go for the food huh? _

 

**From Mark, 3:16pm:**

_ That’s the way to my heart. ;) _

 

**To Mark, 3:16pm:**

_ outrageous… but yea, can u come over to the studio on Monday? around 7pm sound good? _

 

**From Mark, 3:16pm:**

_ Yeah, sounds great. What about today though? Are you up to something? _

 

Jack stares at the screen of his cell phone, thumbs hovering in the air. He wasn’t planning seeing Mark until tomorrow but now that the brunet asked, he’s not sure anymore. They don’t have a lot of people coming in on Sundays, so everything is relatively calm. Jack just saw his third client leave the chair and he was discussing with Marzia about the new tattoo he wants. Felix took a break and is probably snoring upstairs, on Jack’s bed, and Robin is making flower crowns for tomorrow. He chews his lips.

 

**To Mark, 3:18pm:**

_ just workin, nothin much. why? _

 

**From Mark. 3:19pm:**

_ Chicken and dumplings, at my place. _

 

**To Mark, 3:19pm:**

_ is this ur way of askin me on a date? bc if it is, i’d need more than just chicken _

 

**From Mark, 3:20pm:**

_ Excuse me, chicken AND dumplings?? But very well, I have wine and 80’s movies. _

 

**To Mark, 3:20pm:**

_ SOLD _

 

Jack reads the American’s address, surprised to know that he has an apartment. He thought Mark was staying in a hotel during his business trip, but apparently the guy can provide a place for himself. It’s not exactly far from the studio, so Jack can walk there alright. The Irishman locks his cell phone screen and turns his head when the doorbell rings, seeing a new client. For the rest of the working hour, Jack focuses on his job and forgets the small anxiety settling down in his stomach. 

 

Robin murmurs something about the sky being gloomy at one point, but there’s no sign of rain. Jack doesn’t answer him, too busy outlining a tattoo on someone’s shoulder blade. They can still hear the pride parade singing along with music and people cheering in the background. Felix comes down after a couple of hours, hair messy from sleep, and Jack huffs at him. He doesn’t say that he will meet Mark tonight, not wanting to be questioned right now, so the green-haired man quietly waits for everyone to leave when the working hour is over.

 

The Irishman walks upstairs to take a quick shower. He puts on a white shirt and black jeans that are torn on the knees. Before leaving the studio, he makes sure to grab his old sweater-jacket and lock the place. The cold breeze hits his face softly whenever he walks and the street is more quiet, the parade coming to its end. Soon the street lights will turn on and some lanterns above the road will illuminate the way. Jack looks up at the sky, noticing the grey clouds and hoping that it doesn’t rain until he’s under a roof again.

 

It fucking rains.

 

Drops of water start falling from the sky and streaming down Jack’s neck when he’s only half way to Mark’s place. The green-haired man could take a cab but, because of the parade, some streets are closed and he would be really late instead. So Jack curses out loud for not bringing an umbrella and begins to sprint, rain buzzing in his ears like static from a tv. When he stands in front of a small apartment building, Jack buzzes the intercom several times and goes inside.

 

The Irishman feels utterly embarrassed when the brunet opens the door, only to see Jack soaking wet in the hallway like a stray cat. His face must be red from running and he’s puffing his cheeks, aware that his hair is sticking to his forehead. Mark’s wearing a black shirt and light jeans, looking hot as always. The brunet’s doe eyes trace him up and down and Jack shivers from the cold.

 

“It’s r-raining.”

 

“I can see that,” Mark replies. “Jack, what the hell. Come in.”

 

The Irishman shrugs, saying he doesn’t have a driver’s license and explaining the cab situation. Mark groans and calls him stupid, though there’s no bite in his voice and it’s rather fond. Jack would laugh, but his whole body is shaking. When Mark closes the door behind them, he tells the green-haired man to wait a moment while he grabs some towels. Jack nods, removing his soaked jacket and boots while looking around the place. The apartment is simple, pure black and white. The opposite of his apartment. Jack can only assume that since Mark doesn’t live here, he doesn’t spend too much time decorating anyway.

 

There is, however, a delicious smell of food and Jack can’t wait to put something in his stomach after all of this. He hugs himself and Mark comes back looking extremely worried. The Irishman takes a towel from the man and manages to murmur a  _ Thanks _ before drying his arms and head. Mark purses his lips, saying it’s his fault for not picking him up instead. Now it’s Jack’s turn to call him stupid. He groans when the white shirt sticks to his skin, feeling uncomfortable. The brunet looks down at his body and the green-haired man blushes. His roses tattoo on his hips must be showing through the fabric.

 

“I should get you some clothes. You can’t stay in those, I don’t want you to get sick...” Mark murmurs and pulls Jack by the hand.

 

The Irishman’s toes curl on the tiled floor of the brunet’s bathroom when he’s left alone to change. He takes off his shirt and jeans, catching a glance of his tattoos in the mirror above the sink. Jack’s boxer briefs are just slightly damp, so he decides to keep wearing them. He takes the outfit in his hands and he huffs, noticing it’s the dark blue sweater Mark wore to the parade. It’s too big on him, the sleeves covering his hands and exposing his collarbone. It’s warm and it smells like the American. The sweatpants also fold over his feet and Jack chuckles.

 

“Mark?” he calls for the man after leaving the bathroom. The brunet replies and Jack hugs himself while walking into the kitchen.  Mark’s filling two bowls with chicken and dumplings that smell incredible. “Gosh, that looks delicious.”

 

“Looks  _ and _ tastes delicious,” Mark smiles and Jack snorts. “Did the clothe- Oh.” He looks at the green-haired man and notices the long sleeves and sweatpants. Jack fidgets with the hem of the sweater.

 

“They’re big, but it’s okay. Sorry about that.”

 

“You look cute.”

 

The Irishman can’t help but chuckle. The look on Mark’s face is hilarious and he probably wasn’t planning on saying that out loud. Jack takes a bowl from the counter and cutlery, telling the brunet to sit on the couch with him instead. Mark follows him quietly and the green-haired man is thankful for the warm meal. They get cozy and the Irishman pulls his legs up, henna tattoos on his feet showing. The food is delicious and Jack moans between bites, saying it was worth coming here despite the rain. Mark acts like he’s hurt due to Jack caring more about the meal than him. It makes the Irishman laugh.

 

They watch  _ The Neverending Story, _ the rain still in the background, and Jack curls himself up on the couch after Mark gets them some blankets. Half way through the movie, they pause so the brunet can open the wine and the Irishman raises his glass so the American can pour some of the beverage. The sleeve from the sweater pulls back with the motion and Mark’s eyes find his left wrist. Jack’s heart immediately skips a beat, worried that he saw the scar, but the brunet asks something different.

 

“You have a constellation tattoo.”

 

“Uh.” Jack follows Mark’s gaze to his wrist, seeing the simple design there. “Yeah, it’s a-”

 

“Aquarius,” the brunet says first, then flushes. “Sorry, uh. I like that. I like space.”

 

The Irishman smiles and takes a sip from his wine. “We all have one. A sign constellation, I mean. Marzia, Felix, Robin and me. It was Fe’s idea to show our friendship. Theirs are in different places, though. It’s nice.”

 

“You must really love them.”

 

Jack nods and silence falls once more between them. They watch movie after movie, laughing and commenting about silly things. The bottle of wine is empty and the green-haired man feels a light comfortable buzz in his mind. At one point, Mark sits right next to Jack and his head rests on the brunet’s shoulder. Everything feels  _ so _ nice and for once, the Irishman wishes time would stop. He feels more than he hears the American’s voice, rumbling through his chest. There’s that thought about Mak leaving and that he won’t feel this again.

 

“I don’t wanna go…” Jack mutters, words dragging out through his half-asleep state.

  
Mark seems to be just like him, because he sounds sleepy when he murmurs back  _ Then don’t _ . The green-haired man sighs into the crook of the brunet’s neck, cuddling him. Mark wraps his arms around Jack and he feels safe this time. His eyelids are heavy and the moonlight shines through one of the windows, stars blinking happily after a cloudy sky. Jack thinks Mark kisses his forehead, but he could be mistaken. He tries making the effort to ask that, but the green-haired man falls asleep before a word can leave his lips.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I wanted to let you guys know that I wrote a fic about Anti/Jack. I know, I know, don't judge me before reading haha. It started as a drabble and I wanted to see how it would work. I'm actually really satisfied for putting some thoughts down, I wrote it this whole week and it's been really nice to experience that. I gave myself The Feels. Anyway, I thought you guys could check it out [here.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11923296) Thank you so much for reading this new chapter and for your support! ♥  
> 


	5. Chapter 5

There’s a thud followed by a groan in the morning.

 

Jack touches the back of his head with a scowl, body flat on the floor after falling from the couch. The Irishman’s vision adjusts to the brightness of the day and he sees brown, half-lidded eyes focusing on him. Mark’s face is groggy from sleep and he’s frowning a bit, as if he’s wondering how the green-haired man managed to fall like that. Jack rubs his eyes, murmuring something about the American pulling the blanket all for himself and snoring too loud. The brunet sends him an apologetic look but he’s clearly amused by the Irishman’s grumpiness.

 

“Fuck.” The green-haired man moves his elbows up to sit on the floor. “I’m sorry, I fell asleep… I didn’t mean to. Shit…”

 

“No, it’s-” Mark’s sentence is interrupted by a yawn and he stretches his body, groaning and sighing. “It’s fine.”

 

Jack swallows and watches the hem of the brunet’s shirt lift with his movement, revealing a light happy trail. The green-haired man stares into nothing when Mark sits back on the couch and chews the inside of his cheek, feeling self-conscious of his breath. The American says something about breakfast but Jack already starts shaking his head, pointing towards the hallway and getting up. He walks into the bathroom to pee and rinse his mouth, stealing a little bit of Mark’s toothpaste to scrub his teeth with his finger. Not ideal, but it works for now.

 

The green-haired man notices his clothes from yesterday hanging on the bathroom door but, before he even considers changing into them, Mark knocks on the door and whines about wanting to pee. Jack snorts and walks out to check the time on his cell phone. It’s past eleven in the morning and there’s a text from Robin asking where he is, which Jack ignores for now. Mark steps into the living room and notices the Irishman’s frown at his cell phone.

 

“Is everything okay?”

 

“It’s… almost midday.”

 

Mark looks confused but then his face lits up, showing concern. “Oh, shit! Are you late for work? I’m so sorry! I can drive you there if y-”

 

“No, that’s not it,” Jack huffs with a smile. “We don’t work on Mondays. It’s just… I wasn’t planning on staying here for that long and I don’t want to be a bother.”

 

“Well,” Mark steps closer to him, narrowing his eyes as if he’s in deep thought. His hair is still a hot mess and Jack holds back a smile. “I don’t know about _you_ … but I enjoyed our sleepover session.”

 

The Irishman snorts lightly and crosses his arms over his chest, long sweater soft on his skin. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, it was really nice.”

 

They smile at each other and Jack plays with the image of Mark nearly kissing him on the night of the parade. He clears his throat and looks away, tightening his grip on the sweatshirt. The brunet’s smile slowly fades, as if hearing Jack’s thought, and he sighs.

 

“Breakfast?” Mark murmurs.

 

“It’s almost lunch time.”

 

“Breakfast.”

 

Jack huffs when the American agrees with himself, nodding and walking into the kitchen. The Irishman says he should go, but does nothing about the matter when Mark literally says he wants to keep Jack for himself. It makes the green-haired man blush and the brunet smirks while making them some food. The Irishman makes the coffee and they eat on the floor, plates on the coffee table while they rest their back against the couch. Mark doesn’t have a proper table in the apartment, just like Jack doesn’t have a goddamn door. Amazing, really.

 

There are stolen glances every now and then that makes butterflies flap their wings in Jack’s stomach. The thought of doing something so domestic like this every morning and having someone there to hold him hits the green-haired man like a punch in his guts. He pushes his plate away from him, feeling too much way too soon. Jack’s been craving touch so much lately, it’s a goddamn mess. Mark purses his lips at the Irishman.

 

“Stop that,” Jack murmurs.

 

“Stop what?”

 

“I… I don’t know, just… You… _You!_ ”

 

“You want me… to stop myself?” Mark raises an eyebrow.

 

“Yes!” the green-haired man lets out an exasperated groan.

 

“Jack…” the brunet scratches the back of his head and the sigh that leaves his lips is long, heavy. The Irishman takes a good look at him, noticing dark circles under his eyes that weren’t there before. Mark stares at him intently and Jack fights the urge to shrink. “I think we need to talk…”

 

The green-haired man bites the inside of his cheek and swallows down his frustration. He remembers the conversation he had with Felix, he tries to keep his friend’s words in his mind and gives Mark a short nod. The American looks down at the floor, as if thinking on what to say and Jack waits, playing with the hem of the sweater. When it takes too long, the green-haired man huffs and his words overflow first.

 

“I c-can’t do this, okay?” he stutters. “Even though I want _this_ ,” Jack motions between them. “The fact that you’re leaving tomorrow freaks me the fuck out.”

 

“Jack.”

 

“Do you have any idea how scary it is to be close to someone, only to have them gone? For who knows how long?” Jack gesticulate wildly with his arms, finally letting these thoughts out. “We barely know each other, so I think it’s better to just forget this _thing_. A-And you’ve got shit to do, you probably have serious meetings and clients that wouldn’t bat an eye at me.”

 

“Jack.”

 

“I’ve got issues, I’m not that good up in my head, and you wouldn’t want to start something with a person like me. I’m just a hippie covered in tattoos and marks, that lives above his own workshop, and all his friends help him pay for the studio rent because things can get difficult som-”

 

“Jack!” the brunet exclaims, interrupting the green-haired man. The Irishman flushes and looks away, apologizing. Mark huffs and shakes his head with a crooked smile, dimples showing. “Is this why you stopped me that night? From kissing you?”

 

The Irishman’s heart races when he hears Mark confirming about the kiss. He really did want to kiss him. Goddamnit. Jack nods and pulls his legs up to hug them.

 

“Alright,” the American continues, voice soft and low. “Do you like me?”

 

At this question, Jack looks at Mak. The brunet’s expression is a mix of expectation and concern, and he’s clenching his hands over his lap in an anxious manner. It makes the green-haired man realize that it’s not just him who’s been freaking out about all of that. Jack was trying not to initiate anything, even though he was failing, so he could protect himself. But it never crossed his mind that by doing that, the Irishman was hurting Mark instead. Jack gets lost in the American’s doe eyes for a moment and allows himself to just _feel_.

 

“Yeah,” Jack whispers, heart skipping a beat. “Yeah, I do.”

 

It looks like Mark fights back a smile and he clears his throat, pinching the end of his nose to cover his mouth. The tense air around them seems to lessen, leaving more room to breathe. The brunet inhales deeply and nods, tucking a few strands of hair away from his face.

 

“That’s… that’s really good to hear,” he tries to murmur, but Jack can hear the relief and happiness in his tone of voice. “Because I really like you too.”

 

Part of Jack beams with joy, but the other is a little afraid of what that means. Mark must see this in his eyes, because he moves to sit closer and he tentatively reaches for Jack’s hand. Their fingers intertwine, Mark’s skin emanates warmth, and the green-haired man stares at their hands for a long time. A huff comes out of his lips and he rubs his thumb on the brunet’s skin. Their shoulders brush and Mark’s voice is right to his ear.

 

“Although, I do admit I wasn’t planning any of this…” the American says. “That’s kinda tricky, isn’t it?”

 

“Yeah, it is…”

 

Mark sighs and bumps his forehead on Jack’s temple. They stay quiet after that, both wanting something more but not daring to do anything about it. The green-haired man does let Mark cuddle him when they move to the couch, giving in to the need for contact. He caresses the brunet’s hair, that smells of green apple, and it’s soft under his touch. Mark wraps his arms around Jack’s waist after asking if he could, and the Irishman is grateful for that. Some birds chirp every now and then, and honks of cars are heard. Other than that, the apartment is silent and warm.

 

At one point, Jack’s cell phone buzzes on the coffee table and that stirs them awake. Wait. Shit. Did they fall asleep? Again?! The Irishman grunts and extends his arm just enough to grab his cell. He nudges Mark after reading Marzia’s text. The brunet grumbles but asks what’s the matter.

 

“Indian food, remember? We’re supposed to meet them in like… two hours,” he says. When the American doesn’t reply, Jack nudges him again. “Dude, we need to get up. We need to shower and I really want to pee again.”

 

“Mm…” he mumbles. “Can I shower with you?”

 

“Mark.”

 

“Then I’ll stay here…”

 

“Mark!” Jack laughs, enamoured by the man. The brunet grumbles once more, face smushed  from sleep, but he finally gets up and sets the Irishman free. “There we go.”

 

“For the food.”

 

“Yes, Mark. For the food.”

  


***

  


The green-haired man accepts the drive back to the studio in Mark’s rented car and the brunet insisted on Jack keeping the dark blue sweater, despite having his own clothes back, to the point where the Irishman suspected it to be a kink. Mark flushed feverishly, stuttering something about just wanting Jack to have something of his and that he looked cute. The Irishman’s hands touch the soft material on his lap while looking out the car window.

 

Jack texts his friends when he walks into his apartment, letting them know to get ready. Mark waits for him to take a shower and get dressed. The green-haired man puts on another colorful poncho that goes down to his knees and the sleeves, down to his biceps, covering his wing tattoo. While he fixes his hair, poorly, Mark shouts from the living room, asking what restaurant they’re going to for dinner. Jack shouts back, saying it’s nothing like that and he’ll explain on the way. Marzia texts him back, confirming that they are all set, and the Irishman looks for something in his bedroom before leaving.

 

When they get in the car once more, Jack guides Mark where to go and the brunet only gives him suspicious looks. The Irishman snorts and tells the brunet to stop the car after a while.

 

“It’s a… park?” Mark asks, looking at the trees outside.

 

“It’s Queen’s Park, yeah,” Jack smiles and moves to leave the vehicle. “C’mon, then.” When they walk into the short grass, the green-haired man says he wants Mark to close his eyes. “Do you trust me?”

 

The American hums but nods and Jack takes his hand on his, guiding him through the park. There are a couple of people resting around the area but thankfully it is quiet and not crowded. The green-haired man sees his friends waving and, when they stop on their tracks, Jack whispers that Mark can open his eyes now.

 

Everyone cheers when the brunet looks at the sight and Jack can’t help but chuckle at the surprised look on Mark’s face. There’s a fort tent next to a tree, bathed by tiny lights that tangle around the branches. A bunch of cushions and blankets are laying on the grass and there’s food in tupperware containers, ready to be served. Everyone is dressed pretty much like Jack, ponchos and long thin sweaters. Marzia says it’s a last minute goodbye party and Robin, as always, is the first to run to hug Mark. The brunet’s speechless and Felix is worried that he’s going to cry.

 

“Guys…” Mark shakes his head. “This is amazing… I’m… Goddamnit, guys… What the hell,” he half chuckles, half sobs.

 

“No crying!” Felix screams. “No crying allowed!”

 

“Here, sweetie.” Marzia walks up to Mark and gives him a fucking poncho. Jack loves her deeply.

 

They all sit down to eat, everyone chattering out loud and there’s soft music playing in the background. Jack watches the curtain of lights above them in awe, thinking that they did a great job setting everything up. Robin picks up the flower crowns he was spending so much time on and they’re absolutely beautiful. The green-haired man distracts himself with them, having fun and laughing. The sad part inside him is forgotten briefly, telling himself that they all need this moment to bond.

 

There’s dancing too, where they go one by one to see who’s the best and Mark wins just because it’s his party. Felix brings some wine and Marzia sets out some fun board games to play. The inside of the tent is comfortable and they make a pile of blankets, everyone resting against each other. Mark keeps looking at Jack, hidden smiles that say more than they should. The green-haired man chews on his bottom lip and he interrupts the conversation without thinking twice.

 

“Mark, can I talk to you for a second?”

 

The brunet blinks at him and Robin shoves the American’s shoulder, urging him to go already. Jack gets up and leaves the tent, walking a little further from his friends and resting his back against a tree. The dim light from around the tent hits his face softly and he can see the moon shining above them. Mark looks anxious again, pursing his lips before Jack even begins to speak. The Irishman touches his arm to soothe him and he takes something from his back pocket.

 

“I wanted to give you this…” Jack says and opens his hand to reveal what he has. “It’s… It’s a star stone. I know it may sound silly but it’s like an amulet to me. I thought you’d like how it seems to have thousands of stars inside, like a personal galaxy. Something to remember me by.”

 

Mark takes the crooked stone in his hands, rubbing his thumb over it and a smile slowly shows on his face. When the brunet closes his hands around the amulet, it feels like he has Jack’s heart instead. Mark lets out a shaky laugh, stepping closer to Jack until their noses brush. The green-haired man holds his breath.

 

“Thank you. Thank you _so_ much… I love it, Jack,” he whispers. His face scrunches, thousands of emotions showing on his face in few seconds. “Please, can I kiss you? I don’t… I don’t want to go and feel regret for not even trying… _Please?_ ”

 

Their foreheads touch and Jack swallows, closing his eyes while his hands move to caresses Mark’s hair. He holds back a groan and mumbles a weak _Yes_ , sighing in relief when the brunet closes the gap between them. Jack’s heart swells when they finally kiss, sparks running under his skin with every move. Mark is nothing but gentle, lips soft and wet that brush along his tongue. Jack places his arms around Mark’s neck to deepen the kiss, head resting against the tree while the brunet embraces him. He pecks the brunet’s lips several times, not wanting this to be over. The green-haired man lets his feelings take over and he mumbles his next words with half-lidded eyes.

 

“Stay with me… Stay with me tonight.”

 

Mark plants his face on the crook of Jack’s neck, nodding non-stop and hugging him tight. The Irishman inhales, lungs filling with air and something more. Mark kisses him again, sucking on his bottom lip and sighing into his mouth.

 

It’s wonderful and bittersweet.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just letting you guys know that it's taking me a little longer to update due to my last semester at college haha. So don't freak out if I don't update for a little more than a week, I'm just hella busy. Things are getting hectic BUT FEAR NOT! Everything is going to be okay and I'll finish this! Thank you so much for reading! :)
> 
> I've made a ko-fi page in a way to support me, if you want. [Buy me a coffee.](https://ko-fi.com/sparklepines) ♥  
> 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for being late! I was really busy with my monography and college stuff. Things are doing well, though. Hectic, but well. Thank you so much for the patience!! ♥

Jack smiles fondly in the car, remembering Mark offering to help his friends take the tent down and organize the place, only to have Felix smacking his hand and telling him to leave with the Irishman. Right now, it makes Jack huff in affection looking at Mark driving back to the studio and seeing how tight his grip on the steering wheel is. The brunet sends him a look after hearing the sound coming from Jack and the green-haired man shakes his head.

 

“How come you’re the one who’s nervous?” the Irishman says.

 

“I’m not nervous.”

 

“Yes, you are.”

 

Mark flickers his gaze from Jack to the road, back and forth, pursing his lips and inhaling deeply. “Okay, fine. I am nervous.”

 

Jack places his hand over the brunet’s thigh briefly, murmuring that he probably will be nervous as well. Perhaps his mind didn’t process what is happening yet, but the green-haired man takes a deep breath and assures Mark that it’s alright to feel that way. It means that he really cares and Jack can feel the butterflies starting to flap their wings in his stomach when they arrive at the studio. The American takes his hand when they walk inside and once again, the darkness of the place makes them whisper.

 

They do everything deliberately, taking their shoes off in the doorway and hanging their ponchos over the couch. The Irishman sets up his record player, wanting to have something soothing in the background, and Mark carefully places the gemstone on the coffee table because he doesn’t want to drop it by accident. He hugs Jack from behind, wrapping his arms around the green-haired man like they just belongs there.

 

Jack turns his head to kiss Mark, resting against his chest and sighing into his mouth. He breaks the kiss and pulls the American by the hand with his head down, feeling somewhat shy while taking him to his bedroom. Mark follows wordlessly but his eyes shine when he sees Jack’s room, noticing the tapestry over the bed frame along with strings of lights. There’s a wall dedicated just to pictures, filled with memories and friendship, and the brunet brushes his fingers along them with a smile.

 

When the American turns his attention back to Jack, he pushes the Irishman slowly towards the bed while pecking his lips. The green-haired man falls onto the mattress and Mark stays on top of him, hazel eyes saying something Jack can’t quite tell. His heart begins to beat faster against his ribcage and he swallows when Mark’s hands rest on his hips, almost underneath his shirt. Jack would say he is finally nervous, but he doesn’t trust his voice right now. The American whispers gently if he can take his clothes off and immediately the green-haired man is self-conscious of his body. There’s a thin line of anxiety threatening to devour him and Jack shuts his eyes tight, making an effort to nod.

 

Jack has to lift his arms so Mark can remove his shirt properly, but he keeps his eyes closed, barely moving after that and waiting for something to happen. The Irishman’s aware of the quietness that follows and he’s sure that Mark is staring at his sides and belly, where excess fat lays on his body. There are also old scars that the rose tattoos did not cover and, even with the dim lightning coming from the strings, the white cuts certainly glow. The silence is becoming excruciating and Jack starts fidgeting under the brunet, wanting to leave.

 

“Jack,” comes Mark’s low voice. “Look at me.”

 

The Irishman sighs and opens his eyes, only to see the American’s soft expression looking back at him. He holds Jack’s face for a moment, thumbs brushing his cheeks, and the green-haired man feels himself relaxing under his touch. There’s a hint of sorrow in Mark’s eyes, but the confidence prevails, making Jack’s heart flutter.

 

“Everything’s okay,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you, alright?”

 

This time, the green-haired man nods easily and there’s a huff of relief coming from his lips. The brunet takes off his pants as well, making sure to tell Jack what he’ll do before moving. His hands explore every inch of his body, fingers brushing over scars, and it makes the Irishman shiver. It feels like there are sparks under his skin when the American wanders down to his thigh, ignoring what’s between his legs on purpose. The brunet looks back at him with darker eyes. Under Mark’s gaze, Jack feels beautiful.

 

The American lets the green-haired man do the same thing with him, removing his clothes and taking it all in. Jack sits up to look at him better, kissing his chest and collarbone. The faint music and wind chimes in the background soothes them, and they capture their kiss again, legs locked to each other’s waist while they begin to move. Sitting like this in front of each other, their erections brush and Mark’s hands pull Jack closer by his ass cheeks. The Irishman buries his fingers in the brunet’s hair, moaning with the small friction.

 

Mark plants love bites on his neck, sucking on his skin. Jack hums and pushes the brunet until he falls in bed with a huff, feeling more confident of himself. The Irishman leaves a trail of kisses down to his navel, breathing over Mark’s erection. Jack kisses the tip of the head before sucking on it, and the American’s gasps make the Irishman grin. He bobs his up and down deliberately, wrapping his hand around it and pressing his thumb on a veiny spot.

 

Jack tastes the saltiness of his skin, circling his tongue around Mark’s head before sinking down. The American moans and caresses the Irishman’s hair with care. He wants to make the brunet feel good and his heart swells with emotions. He can feel Mark’s girth when he’s fully hard and Mark lets out a choking sound when Jack adds more pressure. The green-haired man releases him with a popping sound and the sight of a flustered Mark warms his heart.

 

The Irishman zones out for a moment, wanting to memorize him like that, and it takes him a second to realize that Mark talked to him.

 

“What?”

 

“Do you have condoms?” the brunet breathes. “And lube.”

 

“Oh, uh,” Jack blushes and pushes strands of hair away from his forehead. “Y-Yeah, uh. Bathroom.”

 

Mark pecks his lips before moving to get up, saying he’ll be right back and leaving Jack panting in bed. The sight of Mark naked walking around his apartment is quite pleasant and his cock twitches at the thought. He groans and falls flat onto the mattress, looking at the mandala fabric hanging from the ceiling. Jack closes his eyes and takes deep breaths, glad that they’re doing this without rush. He wants to remember this. Every single part of this.

 

A shadow hovers over him and he sees Mark smiling down at him. Jack returns the gesture and, when the brunet places a hand on his cheek, the Irishman wraps his fingers around Mark’s wrist to keep him there. The American’s eyes flicker to the faint scars underneath the tattoos on his arm, but he keeps looking at Jack like he’s the brightest star in the sky.

 

The tan man uncaps the bottle of lube and the Irishman lets out soft gasps when Mark starts preparing him. They keep their eyes locked, pupils dilated with want, and Jack moves a little to get more of Mark. He spreads his legs and whines when the brunet’s fingers curl inside him, throwing his head back. Mark pumps their erections with one hand to get more friction and they both groan. Jack shudders when the tan man pulls back his fingers and the Irishman takes the condom from his side to open it, unrolling it on Mark’s cock. The green-haired man moves to lie down again but the brunet opens his mouth to speak.

 

“Can you turn around?”

 

“W-What?” For a moment, Jack feels silly for thinking that someone like Mark would want to look at him while having sex, but he forces himself to ask the reason.

 

“I…” Mark flushes and he looks shy under messy hair and pink lips from kissing. “I want to see your wings. I mean, your tattoo wings.”

 

“Oh,” Jack whispers. He feels relieved once more and a laugh escapes his lips. “That’s fine.”

 

The green-haired man turns around to get on all fours and Mark traces the wings with his fingers, murmuring words of affection. Jack’s as red as a tomato by the time the brunet brushes his cock up his entrance, and he holds the Irishman by the hips to slide inside him. Jack feels air leave his lungs when Mark thrusts forward and they gasp, adjusting themselves. The green-haired man can feel his heart threatening to explode and he moans loudly when they move again.

 

The thrusts are steady and Jack tries to move his back as much as he can without falling, making his tattoo appear to be moving. Mark grunts and tells him that he’s beautiful, placing one hand between his shoulderblades, while the other holds him still. They gain speed after a moment, both getting used to each other, and their skin makes slapping sounds in the room. Jack pants and cries out when Mark hits his prostate hard.

 

“A-Ah, fuck!” he shouts when the brunet does it again and again and again. “Oh, god! Y-Yes...”

 

The American moans with him, letting out small grunts and leaning down to rest his chest against Jack’s back. The Irishman moves a hand to jerk himself, mouth open and knitted eyebrows in a silent pleasure. Mark kisses and bites his shoulders, where the feathers lay on his skin, and Jack can feel heat overwhelming him below his stomach. The green-haired man keeps shouting and telling him to go faster, making the bed creak and bang against the wall. His grip on the sheets tightens and his legs are trembling.

 

“Nnngh…” Jack whines and presses his thumb over his erection, teasing himself. “I’m gonna-” he chokes when Mark thrusts harder.

 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” the brunet pants, voice strained.

 

“M-Mark…”

 

Jack groans and spasms underneath the American when he comes, pulsing hard and arching his back. His arms give out and he falls on the bed, humping against the sheets throughout his orgasm. Mark swears out loud and thrusts frantically, feeling Jack’s asshole convulsing around him. The Irishman sobs and shudders violently when Mark comes, warmth spreading inside. The brunet breathes against the back of his neck, still slowly moving despite being spent.

 

They sigh and Mark removes himself to throw the condom away, leaving the room briefly. The Irishman’s high to the world and his half-lidded eyes find his lover after a moment, only to see that he brought a wet cloth for them. Jack huffs and lets Mark clean him, both still breathing a little faster from adrenaline. There’s a foggy thought in the back of the Irishman’s mind that he doesn’t want this to be over. He wants to stay with Mark so bad. Why does he have to leave?

 

“Jack,” the brunet sighs and lies down next to him.

 

“Stop reading my mind…”

 

Mark chuckles and Jack buries his face in the crook of his neck, feeling safe when the brunet pulls the covers up. There are three words on the tip of his tongue that threaten to leave his mouth, but Jack keeps them to himself because it’s too soon for such a thing. Instead, he lazily traces Mark’s back with his fingers while the man caresses his green hair. It’s quiet, the record player having reached the end of its disc and there’s no strong wind to make the wind chimes sing in the middle of the night.

 

Jack looks up to see Mark with his eyes closed, serene face and disheveled hair. He keeps that sight in his heart and when he brushes strands of hair away from Mark’s eyes, the henna tattoos on his hand show how different their lives are. When hazel meets blue, Mark kisses his forehead and hugs him tight. Jack allows himself to enjoy this and lets his mind drift away, lulling himself to sleep with the sound of Mark’s beating heart.

  


***

  


Jack snaps out of his dreamy state when he hears a clicking sound and scowls immediately through narrowed eyes when he sees all of his friends in front of the bed. Mark groans and it takes him a moment to notice the intruders, rubbing his eyes first. Jack throws his hand in the air in a gesture that says _What the fuck?_ when he sees the camera on Marzia’s hands. The three of them are all grinning, shamelessly looking at the tousled sheets. Robin and Felix both take money out of their wallets and give them to Marzia, who nods happily.

 

“What the fuck?” Jack says it out loud, voice hoarse from sleep.

 

Mark grunts, not bothered by his friends and rather comfortable, actually. He seems just upset to be awake so early. Jack huffs, thinking he should’ve expected something like that coming from all of them in the first place. He cleans his eyes to see better and sits up, pulling more of the covers to hide his private parts. Mark has no shame and just stays there, lying on his stomach, completely nude. Jack places a pillow over his butt.

 

“Good morning, love birds!” Felix says.

 

“What was the money for?” Jack grumbles and scratches his messy hair.

 

“We made a bet about you guys sleeping together,” Robin says. “Felix and I lost, we thought you weren’t going to do it.” He shakes his head in defeat. “Damn it, Marzia.”

 

She giggles and snaps another picture before letting her camera hang around her neck. Jack sighs, knowing that there’s no way he will manage to delete those photos without her permission.

 

Robin says they brought breakfast so they can have a last meal together before Mark leaves. That fact hits Jack way too soon and he feels his heart drop. Felix seems to notice right away and he urges everyone to wait in the kitchen. Marzia does not lose the opportunity to say that Mark has a good butt and the brunet lets out a muffled _Thanks Marz_ from the pillow.

 

“Seriously,” Mark says when he finally sits up to see Jack. “You need a door.”

 

“I know,” Jack snorts. “I don’t think that will stop them, though.”

 

Mark sighs and bumps his nose on Jack’s temple. He would give anything to stay in bed with him, lazily enjoying the morning without having to worry about a certain plane to catch. They brush their teeth instead and Mark takes his clothes from the floor, putting them back on. Jack wears a simple long-sleeved white shirt and jeans. Mark pulls him close before leaving the bedroom, placing one hand on Jack’s face and looking at him intently. The kiss he gives Jack is nothing but bittersweet, a hint of sadness and love.

 

“I…” he murmurs against their lips and then repeats the same words Jack said to him last night. “Do you trust me?”

 

“Yeah,” Jack whispers. “I do.”

 

“Then you believe me when I say I’ll come back, right?” Mark says. “Would it be too much to ask you to wait for me? Is that selfish of me?”

 

“I don’t know… Maybe it is a little selfish,” Jack knits his eyebrows at the thought. “But I do want to see you again. I-I really do like you. I want… I want this.”

 

Mark leans to capture their lips together again and Jack tilts his head to deepen the kiss, brushing his tongue on Mark’s bottom lip. They leave the bedroom holding hands and Jack’s face reddens when everyone claps. There are a bunch of pastries and coffee on the counter and they dig through everything, chatting like they’ve been doing this for years. Clearly, Mark’s been accepted as one of the group almost immediately and it warms Jack’s heart to see everyone getting along.

 

Robin is the first to sigh after breakfast, and then, they all sort of look sad. When Mark says he has to go to the airport, they offer to go as well and Jack wants nothing more than to take every second he can to stay with the brunet. So they agree to wait for Mark to grab his luggage and sort things out before they all leave in Felix’s car. It’s a mini road-trip, according to Robin, and Jack huffs when they blast a [ song ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tnFy1luxL0A) in the car. They all sing at the top of their lungs and the green-haired man feels a lump in his throat, already missing this moment even though he’s living it.

 

Everyone hugs Mark at the airport and even more when his plane is announced. There are a few tears here and there, and Jack swallows several times to keep himself together. Mark has the star stone in his hand and he kisses Jack for a long time, pecking his lips over and over. The green-haired man flushes because they are in public, but he enjoys and misses each kiss. It’s somewhat scary and exciting to have someone waiting for you even though they’re far away.

 

“I’ll come back,” Mark whispers just for him, hugging him tight. “I’ll come back for you.”

 

“You better,” Jack laughs nervously.

 

The Irishman lets him go and they watch the American turn his back at them, walking away with a piece of Jack’s heart. Felix and Marzia take both of his hand to wrap their fingers together and Robin hugs him from behind, placing his chin over the Irishman shoulder. They tell him that things will be alright, that they will stay by his side no matter what. As always. Despite the sorrow slowly growing in his heart, Jack genuinely chuckles.

 

Yeah.

 

Everything’s going to be alright.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter will be an Epilogue and there will be a small time-jump! Thanks for reading! :)


	7. Epilogue

“We’ve to go _now!_ ” Jack says, stomping his foot on Marzia and Felix’s house.

 

“I know, I know! One second!” Marzia yells from upstairs and Jack sees Robin running left and right with markers in his hands.

 

“We’re _already_ late!”

 

“We know that!” Felix shouts back.

 

Jack groans and throws his hands in the air. They had weeks to plan this ahead of time and finish the decorations for the party but Robin insisted in adding more stuff and Marzia, of course, wanted to help him. The Irishman checks his watch again, only to purse his lips. Mark’s flight probably landed already and there’s still a good half an hour for them to drive to the airport. Felix runs past him with air horns cans and confetti packages in hands, placing them over the table so they can use later.

 

Six months.

 

It’s been six months since Mark went back to America and he’s finally visiting again for the Holidays. Saying that Jack’s anxious is simply not enough. He’s been biting on his nails for days since Mark confirmed the trip and the dark circles under his eyes are more present than ever. Everyone misses the American and going back to his routine at work has been both good and bad. It was good because it was something Jack already knew how to deal with, and bad because the Irishman saw and felt something new that was too soon taken away from him.

 

During that time, there were nights where Jack would get himself drunk and call the brunet, which would always ended up in crying. Other times, they would be intimate through a phone call or be extremely sappy. The Irishman sighs, feeling anxiety boiling in his stomach. He pulls on his beanie, the green of his hair fading by now, and everyone finally walks downstairs to meet Jack.

 

They are all yelling, everyone nervous and excited as well. Felix grabs the car keys and Marzia pushes him out of the door, urging him to hurry up. They run to get in the car and Jack adjusts the scarf around his neck, the cold air of December hitting his face makes him shiver. Robin is holding the poster that they’ve made for when Mark shows up and Jack clenches his hands over his lap. Marzia turns around in the front seat to see him and she places her hand on his knee for a moment, smiling at him to encourage his friend. The green-haired man returns the smile and rests his head on Robin’s shoulder.

 

“Go, go, go!” Felix screams when he finally parks the car and everyone sprints into the airport.

 

They all gather themselves at the arrival gate, and Jack’s nose and cheeks are red from both the cold and running. He swallows, eyes wandering during the crowd whenever the automatic doors will open, hoping that he’ll see Mark. The Irishman bites his lips and tugs at the end of his jacket, thinking about everything that happened so far. Mark’s been nothing but caring and understanding whenever it was needed. The brunet would always soothe him whenever Jack felt panicky over this thing between them, worried that it wasn’t going work specially due to distance.

 

Jack touches the necklace that Mark sent him mid-October, beneath the scarf, and that soon became his new amulet. It has the Sun Stone attached to a black string and Jack wraps his fingers around it, eyes glued to the gate. Robin pulls the poster up, Mark’s full name written with glitter works easily as a beacon, and there are several rainbow-stickers on it. The green-haired man sucks in air when the automatic doors open once again and he sees the brunet he so much waited for.

 

There’s a moment where Mark looks around for them and Jack takes this small opportunity to watch him. His hair is longer than before, bangs curling over his cheek, and he’s wearing a black long coat that suits him very well. Despite having facecam conversations with the man during these past six months, it still awes Jack how beautiful he is. When Mark spots them and looks at the poster, a huge smile shows up on his face that matches everyone’s. Robin pushes Jack forward and his friends are yelling at him to move, so the Irishman runs towards Mark.

 

They meet halfway and they crash into a hug so hard that makes the brunet huff for air. Jack wraps his arms around the American’s shoulders and buries his face on the crook of his neck, feeling happy to have him after such a long time. Mark hugs him tight and he spins the Irishman in the middle of the airport, making them giggle. The green-haired man pecks the brunet’s face and when they kiss, Jack feels like crying. Mark sighs into his mouth and brush his tongue over the Irishman’s bottom lip. Jack melts in his arms.

 

“Hi,” Mark says and rests his forehead against Jack’s.

 

‘Hi you,” the Irishman chuckles and hugs him some more.

 

“Care to share?” Marzia sings.

 

“Marz!” Mark exclaims and his eyes shine when seeing everyone. “I missed you guys so much! C’mere!”

 

They have a group hug full of laughter and warmth.

 

Robin’s giddy to have Mark back and Felix ruffles the American’s hair while Marzia kisses his cheek. Jack’s face hurts from smiling but he can’t stop. They help Mark to get his luggages and when they leave the airport, Jack’s holding his hand. They drive back to Felix and Marzia’s house first, everyone excited for Mark to see what they made earlier. Jack looks at them, back and forth, with awe in his eyes. It’s so good to see everyone like this. It’s _so_ good.

 

Marzia wraps a scarf over Mark’s eyes before they get inside and the brunet says something about getting kinky way too soon. Jack pulls him by the hand and Robin gets ready to take a picture when they tell the American to remove the improvised-blindfold. Felix pops the confetti in the air when Mark looks at the living room. On the banister, there’s a long poster that has _Welcome Back!_ handwritten on it and there are balloons all over the house, along with a table full of snacks and drinks. Marzia presses an air horn, already taking party-hats for everyone while Robin takes pictures of everything he can.

 

Jack tightens his grip on Mark’s hand and he can’t stop looking at him, afraid that he might disappear. The American chuckles and, maybe, there are a couple of tears here and there when he thanks everyone for the party. Even though the brunet’s probably tired from the long trip, he’s more than happy to spend time with them. They eat a bunch of junk-food and candies, chatting about anything and everything.

 

When everyone seems to quiet down, Mark pulls Jack in a corner and the Irishman brushes his thumb over the brunet’s cheek.

 

“I missed you,” Jack whispers.

 

“I missed you too.” The American’s eyes turn into half-moons. “I missed you _so_ much.”

 

“I like your hair more now,” the Irishman chuckles and tucks Mark’s bangs behind his ear. “I think you can make a ponytail soon, a short bun. It’ll be really nice.”

 

Mark huffs and leans in for a kiss instead of answering. Jack tilts his head to get more of him, chest-to-chest. The weight in Jack’s heart feels lighter and he sighs, wanting to enjoy every single second of this. He can hear his friends teasing and screaming embarrassing things in the background, but Jack really can’t bring himself to care right now. There’s a hiccup laugh that leaves his lips and Mark’s doe eyes shine at him.

 

When the sun sets, they untangled themselves from the cuddling pile so Mark can go home with Jack. They agreed that the American would crash in the Irishman’s apartment during the trip and they all kiss Mark goodbye for now. Jack’s a little nervous to have him there, wanting to be a good company. When they pass the beaded curtains, Mark hums happily and they leave his luggages in the living room for later. The green-haired man walks them into his bedroom and the brunet beams when seeing the picture Marzia took of them in that last morning.

 

The photo is hanging on the wall among many others of his friends, and they are tangled in the covers with messy hair, Mark’s tan back is exposed while Jack has his arm over his eyes. Even though it was a surprise to have their privacy invaded, the green-haired man was more than happy to have a piece of that moment in his hands. It made everything feel more real, a proof that Jack wasn’t dreaming anything of that. They entwine their fingers while looking at the picture and the Irishman’s heart clenches.

  


***

  


“Don’t move,” Jack says to Mark. “Dude, I mean it.”

 

“Alright, alright.”

 

“Are you sure about this?”

 

“Jack, I had _months_ to think about this. I know what I’m doing,” Mark sighs.

 

“It took _me_ months to convince you, actually. But now that we’re here, I’m really worried. This is serious, okay?”

 

“It _is_ serious. That’s why it means a lot,” he says while adjusting himself more in the chair, one arm behind his head. “C’mon, love.”

 

Jack exhales deeply and nods after a moment, getting ready for what he’s about to do. Mark’s shirtless and he seems pretty calm in comparison to the Irishman. Jack pulls his black gloves until they’re comfortable enough and he places a special-carbon paper with a design on the brunet’s left hip before taking the tattoo machine in hand. The green-haired man soon gets into his zone of work once the buzzing reaches his ears and he starts outlining the tattoo, wiping the excess of ink every now and then.

 

Mark grimaces but stays still and Jack tells him that it won’t take too long because this tattoo is really small and simple. The American chose that place of his body because it’s more discrete for him and Mark likes the idea of having something somewhat hidden from everyone. The green-haired man knits his eyebrows, finishing the details, and the rest of their friends show up in his workstation to see how everything is going.

 

They all look at Mark’s tattoo, skin red and sore, but they all smile. The cancer constellation on his left hip is minimalist just like theirs and there’s a proud feeling in all of their hearts. Marzia puts a hand on Mark’s shoulder and she kisses his forehead, saying how happy they are for having him “officially” in the family.

 

Family.

 

Jack ducks his head to hide his red face, but there’s a huge grin that he can’t hold it back. There’s something really meaningful to be the one making Mark’s first tattoo and the trust they have between each other speaks volumes. He tells the American the basic instructions, warning him about hot water and sunlight as usual, and Mark just nods.

 

They celebrate with donuts and coffee.

  


***

  


This end of the year, Mark is there to help them with the Christmas decorations in Marzia and Felix’s place. They have a huge tree in the living room, covered in fake snow and quirky items, and there are socks hanging over the fireplace with their initials sewed on it. Jack and Robin are finishing up adding some new items on their sweater while Marzia and Mark place the presents under the tree. Felix is cooking in the kitchen and carol songs can be heard in the house.

 

Jack giggles when the green light from his sweater finally works and the words _Son of a Nutcracker_ shines even more. Mark is wearing a classic red one that says _Merry Christmas Ya Filthy Animal,_ which Robin insists that that’s one for the Reference Jar. Felix’s sweater has a goblin with a red nose and Marzia’s, a reindeer skeleton with bells sewed on it.

 

The dogs sit next to the American, wanting his snacks, and Jack snorts. Felix walks up to Mark with a mistletoe and the brunet raises an eyebrow at him. The Irishman laughs and says to go ahead, that they do this every year as long as there’s consent. After a deep hum and another nod from Jack, Mark agrees and Felix pecks his lips. Then it’s Jack’s turn to have a chaste kiss with his friend. This continues until everyone has been kissed and Marzia pops another bottle of champagne.

 

Jack makes out with Mark on the couch, brushing his fingers on the man’s hip, where the tattoo is healing. The green-haired man can’t get enough of him and he plays with Mark’s hair, adoring his soft curls. They watch cliché holiday movies and when _The Night Before Christmas_ plays, they all sing along with the characters because that is a must.

 

Opening the gifts is a fit of laughter. Mark gives Jack a receipt, saying he bought a goddamn door, and that they’ll install it as soon as Christmas ends. They exchange presents for a long time, everyone getting something nice or simply silly just because. Felix rolls his eyes when he sees that Jack got him a beard trimmer and Robin snorts when Marzia gives him a pair of shoes that light up. The Irishman can tell that he actually liked it and it’s adorable.

 

Jack feels a warm buzz throughout the rest of the night and he bumps his nose on Mark’s neck while they’re watching the snow fall from the window. The green-haired man fidgets with the Sun Stone around his neck and Mark hums, fingers brushing under Jack’s sweater. They kiss deliberately and the Irishman can’t wait to wake up next to him in the morning once again.

 

“I’ve been thinking…” Mark murmurs. “You know… Maybe one day I could… I don’t know, maybe I could move to here. Not anytime soon, but… I see myself living here.”

 

Jack perks up at that and his heart skips a beat. He blinks and looks at Mark, thinking of what to say.

 

“I…” the Irishman sighs. “I ain’t denying that I’d freaking love that, Mark… But I want you to know that you can do whatever you want with your life, okay? And I’ll support you no matter what. I don’t want you to think that you _have_ to do that, to leave your home.”

 

“I know you wouldn’t do that me, Jack.” the brunet smiles. “That’s one of the reasons why I fell in love with you. And I really like being here, I really do. Hell, Marz is becoming a sister to me. I’d love to see everyone every day. It’ll be difficult and it’ll take a lot of time for me to sort things out, but… Hey, it’s worth it, right?”

 

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Jack whispers.

 

“That I wanna try moving to here.”

 

“Before that, you asshole! You know what I mean!”

 

The American chuckles and the Irishman feels him shaking with laughter. “Ah, so romantic you are.”

 

“Mark, I swear to g-”

 

“I said I’m in love with you,” the brunet mutters and holds the Irishman’s face. “I love you, silly.”

 

Jack wraps his fingers around Mark’s wrists and he closes his eyes for a second, memorizing this moment of his life. The green-haired man leans just enough to lightly touch their lips and their beards brush against each other’s. Jack plants a tender a kiss on his lover’s mouth and he smiles.

 

“I love you so fucking much.” the Irishman replies and Mark pecks his lips again.

 

There’s a small groan coming from Felix that catches their attention and they turn their heads to see the silver-haired man opening his wallet. Jack’s eyebrow twitches when he gives Marzia and Robin some money and Mark clicks his tongue. When the Irishman asks what’s going on, they said they’ve made another bet of who was gonna say _I love you_ first. Robin and Marzia high fives.

 

“Could you guys, please, stop making bets about our lives?” Jack says.

 

“No, not really…” Robin mumbles and everyone nods, agreeing with him.

 

“Can I be part of the next bet?” Mark asks and Jack punches him lightly on the shoulder.

 

“Dude!”

 

“What? It’s fun!”

 

“Unbelievable.” Jack shakes his head, but lets out a hiccup laugh. “We’re over. We’re done here. I can’t believe you’re associating with these people.”

 

“Hey, you were friends with them first. Not me.”

 

They all chuckle and they gather themselves in the pile of blankets, in front of the fireplace, so they can start the cuddling session. Mark lies down in the middle because, apparently, everyone wants a piece of him. Jack huffs and rests his head against the American’s chest, moving up and down with his breathing. Felix holds the Irishman’s hand while Robin pats his green hair and Marzia adjusts herself between Felix’s legs. Jack closes his eyes and the sound of the fireplace crackling soothes them away.

 

Soon, they’ll come back to the Irishman’s apartment and morning will come. Mark may leave again after the Holidays but this time, it feels more promising and strong. Jack can trust more in himself and wait for whatever that’s yet to come. His friends have been nothing but supportive and Mark means so much to him that it sends a pang to his heart. Jack caresses the back of Mark’s ear and he smiles, feeling safe amount the people he loves.

 

He can’t wait for tomorrow to come.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this and for your patience! It was a wild ride throughout this whole story hah! I'm already working on a new story with Dark/Jack so I hope you all enjoy more stories in the future! Thank you so much, as always!! ♥
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